A picture's worth a thousand years.

 We have just a few days left of the year 2020.

I feel as if 2020 had been promised to be nothing but the best; Holidays being on weekends, a gorgeous summer awaiting, a new house with a roommate that wouldn't try to kill me, a new job that guaranteed better hours and higher pay, the list went on and on and on. 
Fast-forward to December 28th, where I have more wrinkles and feeling like I've made it out of this past year by the very skin of my goddamn teeth. 
I always become reflective towards the end of the year.
As December winds down and I sit in my room, a cocktail in hand, I realize that this may have been the hardest year of my life, but that doesn't mean there haven't been good parts.
I'm sure everyone feels like that after the shitstorm of a year we've all had. 
But life is all about balance, so I'm taking the good with the bad. As much as my fingers can stand to type them both. 

January began with a staff party and ended with me fleeing an apartment and roommate that were both less than perfect. Sure, I had a gym downstairs and my own bathroom, but the walls screamed with angst and unspoken and unwarranted anger. I left in great haste to be rid of those walls. January also included house-sitting and seeing friends that have become more like family the past couple of years. My phone includes pictures of gratuitous gym selfies and progress pictures of my fiddle leaf figs, Irving and Monroe.  
February brought new beginnings. More hours spent on public transit than I'd ever had spent before, a new job and promotion of sorts, and a banana bread recipe that I still have yet to find. It's lost amongst the piles of paper I've accrued this past year. My pictures from February include focaccia bread pizza, a coat I saw on Marta, instantly craving it (along with the man it belonged to), and wine tastings. March began with a rainy train ride. All month I was slowly becoming familiar with my new space and job. It was a bit overwhelming. All the newness of it, and having to snap into position immediately. Lots of beard pictures, handfuls of cookies, and celebrating my niece Ellie's birthday from afar. March ended with pictures of my hands and pictures of my mama. Her birthday will also forever mark the day I drove away from Florida and yet another bad situation and I can't believe that day was two years prior. 
April brought sour beers, a squirrel, and steak frites. A glorious FaceTime with my two best girlfriends and succulent pictures. April was also the first time I took a picture in a mask. I made a coffee cake and some zippy tortellini. I made homemade pasta and watched Blade Runner and thought wistfully of a young Harrison Ford. A power outage and candles along with a grocery trip which found me standing in the aisle next to a Single Meals sign. I ended the month with laughter. 
My birthday month; May began with a photoshoot with what would turn out to be one of my greatest love stories; a 1976 Dodge Colt. I refined my sourdough recipe, to little avail. I drank good wine snapped more plant progress and made a wedding cake for some very dear friends. I cut my hair and wore glasses that weren't right. I shaved my beard and tried to become a little more comfortable in this bag of skin and bones I inhabit. I think I'm still trying to fill out the corners, and smooth out the rough patches. 
June began with photos of Breonna Taylor and crispy tofu. I remember getting extremely tired of wearing masks in June. The entire month was one of weariness and exhaustion. Working too much, not having a weekend, and not sleeping well. It all made me want to take a nap, maybe one that lasted a couple years. More focaccia bread pizza and elephant ear plant progress. A shiny new tattoo, and my first brunch charcuterie board. Lots of juicy Gamay, straight from the fridge. 
July brought watching fireworks from the roof, a giant zucchini (no, that isn't a metaphor), and a praying mantis. One particular picnic where Macey and I were assaulted by ants, then fire ants, then mosquitoes. But Grindhouse and each other's company was worth it. I lusted after Parisian fashion and the style of the 1950s. A fancy sushi birthday dinner for one of my roommates, crispy tofu kimchi bowls, and a haunting reminder that Everything was indeed Not Okay. 
August showed that the progress I was making in yoga really was paying off. Lots of feeling lost and confused about how things got to be so damn bad, and how on earth could they be changed? To combat these feelings I went on a hike, which honestly was the of the best parts of the year. I also watched the sunset every day for a week; something I can't recommend enough. Get outside. Breathe in that fresh air. You'll feel better because of it. And for those of you who have a hard time with allergies, you're not alone. I should have invested in Claritin stock this year.
A *couple* roast chickens that month because I was craving some comfort food. August ended with a road trip that lasted four days where I left a large chunk of my heart under the night skies in South Dakota. Dozens, no, Hundreds of pictures and more deliriously induced corn puns that I even thought possible. Vast planes of empty. Miles of sandy dirt with nothing but wire fences to divide the land. And yes, there are indeed American antelope, and they're called Pronghorns. How long does it take to get from Atlanta to Seattle? Just about four days, and two or three panic attacks. Either way, August slipped away into a moment in time, because it was never mine. 
September brought a flight back to Atlanta from Seatle where I could see Mount Rainier as clear as day. See, the thing is that when I plan a big trip or anything major I *actually* am convinced that life will stop and anything that happens after will be just happenstance. I get blinded by a big trip. Altogether, September was exhilarating. Friends coming to town, cute new coffee shops, and even a farmers market or two. Turkey meatballs, and a glorious dinner date with the perfect wine pairing and even better company. 
October began with yoga on the patio and grilled cheese and tomato soup. October felt like three months in one. Moving tables to houses and spooky sour beers. Lots of breakfast tacos, and yoga. Counterbalancing, of sorts. At long last, two days off in a row for the first time all year. A fun museum and sushi date and a Topo Chico swag bag dropped off at work that I think made me legit shed a tear out of excitement. October ended, just like every year, with a shave and Halloween. 
November started with two days off in a row, a trip to the Dekalb Farmers Market, and me watching my step. My computer officially kicked every bucket and died along with a small part of me. A brand new rip in a pair of my favorite jeans right along with some new old friends. I was High Class Filth and got a new phone. It was time for an upgrade and it doesn't exactly bode well for taking pictures if your camera is cracked. A newfound love for braising shortly followed with some Twilight Zone because I was still holding on to a couple spooky feelings due to still being all cooped up.
The night before Thanksgiving I got in an accident due to slippery roads and little to no tread on the tires of my dream car, Dos. I stayed awake making pies until I fell asleep standing up at 3am. Thanksgiving saw me in the kitchen creating a gluten free and vegeterian feast for the closest of confidants. Good food and wine pairings were the flavor of the day, capped off by a concert of voilins from some temporary roommates, whom I love so dearly. 
December. December flowed so effortlessly from November, and has been full of fun new beers, and a brand new puppy named Peter. A bourbon fizz and my neices Christmas presents were the flavor of this month. Romance and good socially distanced brunches, a bit of building shelves and new cookie recipes, fifteen days of Assmas, along with a flurry of snow and good intentions. Breathing in 2021 and breathing out broken eggs. Christmas day I was giften new pins and a cologne sampler because my roommate knows I have a hard time making up my own mind. Virtual Reality, and tea from my mama were the best parts. People that want to spend time with me, and that give me ammo to fight back against life, and compromised bank accounts when I'm negative 200+ dollars. Fancy Ice and waiting on the repairman to fix the WiFi that had been broken on Christmas Eve. Snuggles and the Last Brunch of 2020, and busted fire hydrants. Good podcasts and new albums that don't live up to expectations, but are still the sound of familiarity. 

There are still a few days left in 2020. Overall this year has been one of growth, even if that's just personal. The things that stand out to me are friendships forged by the dumpster fire that has been 2020. I'll forever be a burning piece of trash, but at least I'm still here. Stronger than ever, and really craving a beach getaway. Who knows what 2021 will hold, but for now I'll be grateful for where I am. I've got a home base. People that love me well, even though I don't know why. A bed to sleep in, and some melatonin to get me there. I'm leaving this year thankful. Fighting for what's right, and can we actually treat everyone the same? For once? I sure hope so. 
On that note, I will end this diatribe of populations. Be kind to one another. Realize that everyone is fighting their own battles, and leave some fucking space for that. Smile under these masks, and wash your hands. 20 seconds. Let's try to have some 2020 vision this next year.
I, for one, am hoping it's a good one.